


his champion

by lorspolairepeluche



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Arishok duel, F/M, Love Confessions, She's Only Mostly Dead, Twin Hawkes, and technically the whole crew except carver and bela are in here, bc guess which pirate queen leaves kirkwall again after the battle, but i only tagged the ones who have lines, i'm still bad at the tagging thing, the hawekbela is way less than the fenhawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8677600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorspolairepeluche/pseuds/lorspolairepeluche
Summary: When Selby sacrifices her life for Leith, she and Fenris struggle with what they've done, what they should have done, and what they might do, not to mention the reasons behind them.





	1. prologue: she dies

_“LEITH!”_

_She feels her body slam into his just as white-hot pain, all-consuming, floods her body. She screams as the blade buried in her lifts her, lifts her until she is face-to-face with her enemy._

_“It is over.”_

_Leith hasn’t stopped moving, but the crackle of magic has gone from the air, and she realizes dimly that he’s out of mana. She is, too, save for a trickle that will never be enough for any spell._

_Except…_

_“It…is…not.”_

_The Arishok’s eyes widen between her fingers as she slams her hand onto his face. The hit is weak; she doubts she’s even given him a bloody nose. But she doesn’t need to. She reaches deep within her and channels that last bit of mana—_ hard _._

_It is the Arishok’s turn to roar with pain as the acrid smell of burning flesh fills the hall. He drops the sword, drops the axe, but she is still holding on, her other hand burning away at one of his horns as she keeps a grip on his face, searing, searing, scorching._

_The Arishok collapses, and she does too, panting, knowing she still has one more thing to do._

_Even the leather on the hilt of her knife burns under her touch; she has lost all ability to keep her spell under control. But it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t_ fucking _matter; this will all be over soon. With the sword still buried in her to the hilt, she crawls. The Arishok does not cry out when her burning hand returns to his face, pushing it back for a clear shot at his throat. Even with her vision swimming, she knows she has to finish this._

_The knife comes down. It’s a messy cut, but blood splashes out, drenching her in its disgusting warmth, and she knows her job is done._

_The knife clattering to the ground is the last sound she hears, besides a voice screaming, “HAWKE!”_


	2. she still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> leith and fenris have a bro chat. a heart-to-heart. a real talk.

Leith sits by his sister’s bed, twisting out a cloth into the basin before laying it gently on her forehead. He pushes her hair out of her face, and his hand lingers on her head. His eyes drop to the one bit of grime he had not allowed Anders to clean: the blood smear she had swiped across the bridge of her nose before reaching up and doing the same for her twin. _If we’re going to be the dangerous bas-saarebas the Arishok thinks we are—we may as well look the part when we face him,_ she’d said. The one moment of rash impracticality she allowed herself—besides, of course, shoving Leith out of the way and letting the Arishok’s blade sink into her instead of her brother.

“Why did you do that, Selb?” he whispers. “Didn’t Mother always think you were the _smart_ one? What the _hell_ made you do that?”

“Do you really need to ask that, Hawke?”

Leith turns and stands. “Fenris? Aveline finally let you go. How is it out there?”

“Still chaotic. But Aveline and Meredith are getting closer to restoring order.” The elf steps into the room. “You have not slept.” It isn’t a question.

“I’m fine,” Leith insists, avoiding Fenris’s steady green gaze. “What do you mean, do I really need to ask that?”

“She loves you.” Fenris glances to the feverish woman in the bed, then away. “Of course she would protect you, even with her life.”

“She didn’t want me to fight the Arishok alone because it would get me killed, and now… Maker, we still don’t know if she’ll make it.”

“Still?” Fenris shows a rare moment of true fear. “Where’s the mage?”

“Anders is sleeping. He collapsed while he was working on her,” Leith tells him. “I’ve been…trying to keep her stable.”

“And you’re about to collapse yourself,” Fenris interrupts. “You need sleep, Hawke.”

“I’m fine,” Leith says again, even as he takes a few steps toward the door. “It hasn’t been that long; I can stay awake a while more.”

“Twenty-two hours.”

“What?”

“It’s been twenty-two hours since the Arishok died, Hawke.” Fenris folds his arms. “And I’ve had more sleep than you since then; I can tell.” He steps past Leith. “Go get some rest. I will…I will stay with her.”

“You won’t leave her again?” The words slip out before Leith can stop himself.

“Hawke—”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t—”

“I never did tell you why I left that night.” Fenris turns back to Leith, not meeting his eyes. “I…I could not stay. The markings…you know that I have no memories of my life before.”

“Fenris?” Leith says, low and cautious.

“When I…when she and I… I am sorry. It is…still difficult.” Fenris fidgets, looking anywhere but at Hawke. “I…remembered. Everything. But…for only a moment. Then it was gone, and…and I couldn’t stay.” Fenris turns away from Leith, back toward Selby’s bed. “I am sorry.”

“That’s not all, is it?” Leith ventures. “Selby still thinks you left because of her.”

“No!” Fenris turns. “Not because of her. Never because of her. I left because…because I didn’t want her to be…”

“Affected?”

“Tied down.” Fenris nearly spits the words. “I am…I am hunted. Haunted. The markings… _Danarius’s_ markings. They brand me a slave, and while he lives, that’s what I—”

“Don’t,” Leith cuts across him fiercely. “You’re not a slave, Fenris. Don’t say you are, or you disrespect everything you’ve fought for.”

“She deserves better than me,” Fenris manages.

Leith’s response is quiet. “I don’t think she could get much better than you, Fenris.” He pauses before he goes to the door. “She doesn’t think so, either.” He hesitates again, says four more words, and departs.

Fenris’s breath sticks in his throat as he looks down at Selby. Leith’s voice repeats over and over in his head.

_She still loves you._


	3. he does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SHE WAKES. briefly. long enough to Cause Some Shit tho bc if selby isn't Causing Shit she ain't selby

Fenris is woken from his doze with a jolt when Selby stirs. “Hawke?” He hastens to her side, changing the towel on her forehead—he’d left it far too long, let it get far too warm. “Hawke, you should still be resting.”

“Fenris?” she whispers. A smile makes its slow way onto her face, a smile that is only a ghost of her usual grin. Her eyes still do not open. “Sorry. Should have…should have…” Her sentence trails off to a slurred breath at the end.

“I didn’t hear that,” Fenris says, distracted as he checks the bandages around what is left of the wound the Arishok stabbed through her abdomen.

“Should have kissed you.”

Fenris looks up, then down at Hawke’s face. Her eyes are open, bright blue as always, if a little unfocused. “Hawke?”

“Before the duel.” One of her hands reaches for his, clumsily laces their fingers. “I should have kissed you. That…that wouldn’t…make the markings hurt too much…would it?” She coughs once, a violent, rattling sound that seems to dislodge something in her chest. “I still…still…”

“Shh,” Fenris urges, pushing her hair away from her face. The cloth on her forehead is already warm again. “I know.” He takes the towel away, dips it into the basin of cool water, twists it out so he doesn’t have to look at Hawke.

“Fenris.” Hawke’s voice is a little stronger, but her grip is still woefully weak as she grabs for his arm. “I thought…I thought I was going to die. I…I expected to die, Fenris. If I had…with—without…”

“Hush, Hawke,” he says, sterner.“I said I know, and I meant it.”

“Fenris, will you…?” Her hand moves weakly, gesturing to her mouth, and he throws caution to the winds.

Fenris leans down, puts a hand on Selby Hawke’s cheek, and kisses her. He is still careful in his movements; he refuses to do anything more he could come to regret later, even if he has already removed any chance of a clear conscience just by kissing her. His heart feels like it’s flaring in his chest, screaming _yes! yes! This is what’s supposed to happen!_ He expects his mind to rebel, to know this is wrong, but it has betrayed him too, whispering that _last time was one of the best nights of your life and you know it_ and _you love her._

As he breaks the kiss and Hawke’s lyrium-blue eyes fall closed, satisfied, Fenris knows he is well and truly fucked.


	4. they are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS NEWS. and other people. what do you know

The next time he wakes, it’s by Leith’s hand on his shoulder. “Fenris.”

He jolts and looks up. “Hawke.”

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” Leith says with a smile. “Anders didn’t want to wake you; you were sleeping so soundly.”

“How long?” Fenris asks, sitting up from his slumped position in the armchair. His voice is rough with disuse.

“Overnight and halfway through the next day.” Anders is at Selby’s bedside, the blue glow of his magic already working on her.

“How is she?” Fenris asks Anders with none of his usual animosity. They both care about Hawke; there’s nothing to argue about right now.

“She’ll survive,” Anders answers, his voice enough evidence of his exhaustion. “It will be…a long time before she’s recovered, though.”

“How long before she starts trying to destroy herself again?” Fenris asks.

Anders throws Fenris what could have been a smile over his gaunt shoulder. “Probably only until she wakes up again, knowing how Hawke’s been lately.”

Leith’s hand tightens on Fenris’s shoulder. “She can’t. She nearly _died_ —”

“I know, Hawke,” Anders assures him. He readjusts Leith’s shirt (has to be; it hangs far too loosely on his thin frame) on his shoulders, shoving the sleeves back up, as the glow of his magic dims and fades and he turns to face the others. “I’m the one who healed her every time, remember?” He runs a hand through his hair, yanks out the tie that has let most of it loose. “The best we can hope for is to slow her down long enough to listen.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Leith volunteers. “I’m her brother.”

“And you’re still mourning Leandra’s death, too.” Aveline stands in the doorway, still in full armor and fighting to seem like she’s _not_ about to fall over from exhaustion just like the rest of them. Sebastian and Varric and Merrill hover behind her, Merrill craning her tiny body to get a look at Selby. “I say Fenris should talk to her.”

Fenris looks up at Aveline, alarm written all over his face and his taut, pricked ears. “Me?”

“Of course,” Varric says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Blackbear will listen to you like she hasn’t listened to the rest of us.”

Fenris growls and looks away. If he talks to Hawke about this, he won’t be able to keep himself from saying everything he’s stopped himself from saying to her since _that night._ “What about Isabela?” Fenris asks, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “Where’s she?”

“Gone.” Leith has to force out the single word as he remembers Isabela turning and leaving him with only _I did it for you_ as some small comfort. “She left before…before you got back.”

Merrill’s little gasp as her hand flies to her mouth is the only sound any of them make. Fenris curses silently, his hands tightening around each other. None of them had expected to lose someone other than Selby in the aftermath. Even Aveline’s lips are a tight line.

“I’m sorry,” Fenris finally says, unable to meet Leith’s eyes. “I’ll…I’ll talk to Hawke. When she wakes again.” He looks back up at Aveline. “How is the city?” he asks to get everyone’s eyes off him and Leith.

“Surprisingly stable,” Aveline answers. “Donnic told me to get some rest and that he could handle it. I should go back soon, though. So should Hawke, for that matter. The people will want to see their Champion.”

“Their what?” Leith repeats, alarmed.

“Oh, you hadn’t heard?” Aveline is _amused_ by this, damn her. “You and your sister have been declared Champions of Kirkwall for your services to the city.” A note of irony is bare in her voice.

“Oh, Maker’s balls,” Leith mutters, rubbing his face vigorously. “A week ago, we were criminals who just had enough money to get away with it.”

“And this week, you killed the Arishok, saved the city, ended the Qunari occupation, and stopped a war before it could begin. All in one duel,” Aveline notes.

“Better than anything I could have written,” Varric chuckles. “That’s how you know it’s true.”

_I did it for you._ Leith can’t look at any of them, so he looks at Selby instead. _I was ready to fight the Arishok all on my own for Isabela, but you held me back, said that if one of us fought him, so did the other. And now they’ve made us Champions._

_What the fuck have we_ done _, Selby?_


	5. he stays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in the red corner, selby hawke. in the blue corner, fenris. FIGHT.
> 
> i dunno, jeff, looks like they're...kissing?

Selby wakes up slowly, very warm and very still. Nothing moves in her room, and she figures she can go right back to sleep. With a sigh of contentment, she rolls over onto her stomach.

The sigh quickly turns into a shout of pain that has her immediately wide awake and curling in on herself, the muscles around the wound spasming and only making it hurt more. Agonizing minutes pass too goddamned slowly, and only when the pain has almost completely faded, leaving her gasping and lying on her side, does she realize that someone is talking to her, low and soothing, his hand stroking her shoulder.

“That’s it, Hawke. Come back. You’re safe. It’s going to be all right.”

She forces her eyes open and whispers, “Fenris.”

“I’m here, Hawke,” he answers surely, his hand stilling on her shoulder. “The mage says you’re going to live.”

Selby manages a weak smile and her usual humor. “Was there ever really any doubt?”

Fenris chuckles, relief making him lightheaded. “For a while there, yes, actually.”

“How long after that sword went through me?” Selby asks.

Fenris considers his answer for a moment before lying. “About ten seconds.”

Selby tries to laugh and cuts off into a groan of pain. “When…when did you know I would live?”

“The second your hand hit the Arishok’s face,” Fenris says, still lying. _The second I kissed you,_ he admits to himself. _Do you remember that?_

Selby can’t laugh, so she just smiles at Fenris. “Anders did a good job. A couple more days, and I should be okay.”

“Bullshit,” Fenris says flatly. “You aren’t going anywhere for at least two weeks, Hawke.”

“Damn,” she sighs. Her hand creeps out from under her blankets and reaches for Fenris. He hesitates only a second before gently laying his hand over hers. “Will you stay with me?”

_Don’t leave._ Fenris’s skin prickles, and he knows they’re both remembering the same night. The promise has left his mouth before he can even consider it: “I will stay.”

Selby doesn’t smile, but her eyes are on his, her mouth ever so slightly open, and, sweet Maker, he wants to kiss her again—

“Kiss me, Fenris.”

Fenris obeys immediately, claiming her mouth with swift urgency for a few seconds before he remembers that she is injured. He slows his kiss as her hand touches his cheek—just a little, hesitating, asking.

Fenris remembers himself and pulls back. “I will stay,” he repeats, backing away from the bed, settling himself in the armchair again. _I shouldn’t have done that. We shouldn’t have done that._ He can still feel Selby’s eyes on him, and he makes an effort to remember what he was supposed to say to her.

“You can’t be reckless anymore,” he blurts.

“What?” Hawke nearly laughs. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Hawke,” Fenris insists. “Ever since—since that blood mage,” he avoids mentioning Leandra, “you’ve had no regard whatsoever for your own safety. You take on jobs of increasing danger, and you don’t let anyone else protect you when we so easily can! And against the Arishok—”

“Against the Arishok, I saved my brother’s life,” Hawke interrupts hotly.

“By nearly ending your own!” Fenris throws himself out of the chair and begins to pace, nearly stalking from one side of the room to the other and back again. “You could have hit the Arishok instead! For fuck’s sake, you could have thrown that fire spell you used on him instead of searing his face off with his sword through you! You didn’t have to—to throw yourself on his blade!”

“Well, I’m fucking sorry I panicked in the middle of a battle when I saw the only family left to me about to _die!_ ” Hawke spits back.

“Is that the only reason?” Fenris demands. “Is that truly the _only_ reason you let yourself take a blow that should have killed you?”

“Yes!”

“ _Liar!_ ” Fenris roars, whirling to face her.

“Fenris!” Hawke says his name scathingly, slowly pushing herself into a half-sitting position.

“Don’t lie to me, Hawke! You said it yourself; you went into that fight thinking you were going to die; you _expected_ to die! Did you—Hawke, did you _want_ to die? Is that what that—that _disaster_ in the Viscount’s Keep was about?”

“And so what if I did?” Hawke snarls, on the defensive now.

“ _So what if you_ —Hawke, don’t you _understand?_ ” Fenris demands.

“Understand what?” she snaps back.

“Hawke.” Fenris takes the two steps to her bed and falls to his knees beside it, gripping her arms and pulling her up, making her look directly at him. “I—still—love—you.” He breaks her gaze, keeping his hold on her arms, looking down at the floor. “If you had died— _fenedhis_. I would never have forgiven myself, Hawke. And neither would your brother.” He lets go of her and stands. “I—am sorry. I should not have done that. I—forgive me for my outburst.”

Hawke swallows back the pain. “Fenris. Do you really mean that?”

“Hawke, if you had died, this city would be in _chaos,_ ” Fenris tells her.

“Leith would have defeated the Arishok; I’m sure of it. We would still have won the duel,” Hawke says. “Leith wouldn’t have let the Arishok get away with killing me, ever.”

“Neither would I.” Fenris can hear the regret in his own voice, tastes it on his tongue. “I would have done it myself. I would have killed the Arishok, and damn the city, damn the rest of the world. I would have had my revenge.”

“On the Arishok? Instead of on Danarius?”

All the anger has been snuffed out of Fenris, and he looks up at her with his green eyes as haunted as the day he met her. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Hawke. If you had died in front of me…it was…it’s selfish of me to think this way. I would have intervened in a duel to avenge you, and damn the consequences, because had you died, I would have wanted to as well. I would have regretted it later—I _do_ regret it—but right then…”

“You would have done the same thing you accuse me of,” Hawke says. But her voice isn’t hard at all. “You would have thrown your life away.”

“Be as angry with me as you wish.” Fenris turns away. “I…deserve it.”

An aborted sound comes from behind him, and he turns back to find Hawke trying her best to laugh. “What,” she coughs, “what must you think of me to believe I could be angry with you after that?” She reaches her hand out to him. “Fenris…”

He knows what she’s asking, and he knows he can’t give it. “I can’t. Hawke, you know I can’t.”

“Is it me?” Hawke asks frankly.

“No. Never.” There is no hesitation in his answer and no lie in his voice. “You are nothing less than the most wonderful person I have ever met.”

“Flatterer.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Fenris’s mouth. “I speak the truth.”

And Hawke smiles, truly smiles. “If this is really what you want, then.”

“Of course it’s not what I want,” Fenris scoffs. “What I _want_ …is out of the question. For now…” His shoulders hunch. “For now, this is enough. I love you, Selby.”

“And I love you,” she answers softly. “Can we live knowing that?”

Fenris settles back into the armchair, smiling at Hawke. “I daresay we can.”


End file.
